


The Collected Thoughts of an Immature Mind

by ArthurBlackthorne



Category: Original Work
Genre: Poetry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-23
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2020-01-24 07:34:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18566821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArthurBlackthorne/pseuds/ArthurBlackthorne
Summary: Just some poetry I wrote. Crossposted on my Wattpad account.





	1. Desert Rain

The droplets fall and everything grows calm

the faded murmur of droplets on concrete

as everyone relaxes

a striking mood to curl up and sleep

as the sky rumbles and lightning strikes

thunder clouds roll like waves

awash with black and every shade of grey

in a desert land everyone falls in love

when the rain comes

to bring hope for the coming spring

to bring a sea of flowers and clouds of bees

hoping to watch sparkling rivers spring

joyously from dry river beds

as the land breathes

back to life


	2. Ghetto

In the ghetto

The birds sing all day

from sunrise to sunset

the dogs bark at the moon

whenever they spy the man

the people's music plays

and never seems to stop

the wind howls around every

single home

while the breeze turns the trees

into chimes made of leaves

the cats remain mostly silent

until they scream like children

and haunt everyone's dreams

the people are quiet

and don't mean to impose

so calls are made at home

in the street voices seem

to echo like whispers

someone is building or fixing

by the steady hum of a machine

the drug den next door is just fine

the sirens wail but never for other neighbors

so its alright and the children keep laughing

drive bys don't come by often and when they

start shooting seems like everyones a starfish

on a black concrete seafloor filled with potholes

fox holes for a war people are born into

and some manage to grow up and flee

the sound of their footsteps echoing hope

for those they had to leave behind

and who gives a fuck about the squirrels?


	3. Fires by the Aqueducts

walking along the aqueducts

the only rivers in a land of sand

trash rushing, caught in the bridges

on the banks, between the water

and the houses with high gates

slumped over suffering in human form

would feel bad, compassionate

winter is coming swiftly and harshly

the birds have flown south a moon ago

some have gas heaters, and food

one has a mother that always cries

begs him to come home

leaves behind food, and fuel

if only he would stop

two fires, two homes burned down

that I can see and one whose fire

flames and smoke and nothing

I could do except watch from across

that flowing swirling dark water

the cops come and tell them to move

some would feel outrage, perhaps

but they haven't seen homes burned

children told stay inside, can't play

been threatened and have to clear up glass

not bad people, maybe, some aren't

most just sick, sick, poisoned

they shouldn't be on the banks

sheltered, from themselves and the cold

so no more fires, to keep away the frostbite

that are left unwatched

high or brought low the fires need to be tended

but they aren't

and the banks burn


	4. Bonfire

 

The night is dark and I marvel at the stars

and hope the peanuts will finish roasting

  
the smell of wet grass makes the time sweeter

  
a bonfire on concrete near a home not mine

  
encircled by trees as tall as sentries

  
People who are family and strangers both

  
and cousins not often seen except

  
and some only seen on this

  
North Carolina-n summer

  
some are family in all but blood

  
though I won't ever see them after

  
Stars as numerous as droplets in the sea

  
City born and raised it seems like magic

  
feels like magic and I am spellbound

  
as tales are spun and the night grows long

  
I hear of brothers who won a city's worth

  
of gold and silver through sheer luck

  
and killed their mother just the same

  
of singing leopards and river spirits

  
who cursed and blessed with the

  
very same singing and sighing breath

  
of a handsome devil on wild nights

  
of a dead bride by the roadside

  
of a man who was the son of a bear

  
and married a queen

  
of a healer who cheated Death

  
one time too far and lost his life

  
for putting treasure above fair deals

  
of dead souls come to visit and say adieu

  
and women who howled at the moon

  
I hear these tales and more and yet

  
know I will not hear them again

  
and the tales will fade

  
even as I'll dream of this same night

  
where the stars were like the sea

  
and moon was a shining silver sliver


End file.
